Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#fuzzy
On top of old smokey All covered with hair There was a place Where the bear was quite bare He wasn't too shiney He was covered with fuzz So he kept on his cap That's what a fuzzy fuzz does.
0
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 8:28 PM UTC
Cop Top
Repeat my name in each verse Flowing within melodies Sing me to sleep A lullaby or a love verse Take me into a new universe Every time you say my name Repeat this tune And play it all-day Until the day comes We could be in each other's arms
0
Feb 11, 2022
Feb 11, 2022 at 12:11 PM UTC
A Cassette of You
Fuzzy Little brain of mine Wanders about the earth Wondering when and where The light switch will come on The window sings to me songs of something. Blurry noise hidden in a vase. That once held red roses Calls to me Announcing I am to quiet To still To be filled with confusion and if I don't move now I will never be more than Somebody that once was Wandering and Wondering
0
Dec 28, 2020
Dec 28, 2020 at 6:18 PM UTC
Fuzzy
scariest part is the thought: am i really here? please touch me, let me know i’m here.
0
Jan 27, 2020
Jan 27, 2020 at 1:29 AM UTC
the
You are my warmth and my light You are my solace My summer solstice I am wrapped in your love I am undeserving of your grace
0
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
You
so juicy that I had to wash both my elbows
0
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 8:41 AM UTC
Ripe (10w)
My knees are weak as I fall to the ground. The stairs I lay on has yellow fuzzy carpet. Carpet that is full of crumbs, dust, and nail polish. The yellow carpet was once white, but is now not, no one knows why only it knows. My knees can’t stabilize as my brain can’t make a move. Without a moving body I have no moving brain, but I can’t have a moving body without a brain. All I can think of is the words you put in my head. I’m to scared of your movements and every word you say is like a million of needles pinching me to teach me a lesson. I’ve become to weak that I don’t seem weak to myself. Because for as long as I can remember I’ve been like this, weak. That I forgot how it felt to try or work hard. So once I lay on the yellow fuzzy carpet. Not worried someone will see my salty tears hit the stairs, or see me falling to the ground. All I care about it whether or not if you know your words hurt too much to explain. Whether or not you choose to be this way. Because I’m feeling the yellow fuzzy carpet beneath me, and I’ve been on this yellow fuzzy carpet stairway to many times before.
0
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
Yellow Fuzzy Stair Carpet
I always told you keep your secrets like ink, right up under layers of my skin where I can see the black mark they leave. Impermanence never deterred me from reaching for your hand like an anchor to measure my weight against paper-thin realities. Sink with me, lace my muscles and bones with the soft heavy haze of summer, let it rest heavily inside my head. Mark my body where it's out of sight, mark these moments each on the wall, leave them etched in tallies like we don't care how many we win or lose. In such a state as we are, everything fades into the white noise of soft muttered phrases.   I twist my fingers around my anxieties, make them diluted and palatable for the journey ahead; I've been afraid of losing ground or losing you but it's unclear now as to how those fears came about in the first place, and their threads are unraveling as we speak. I think I tend to glorify these things more than I should, more than letting them fade into the background. The subconscious is a lonely place, no man should have to go there alone. Dress this up or down, but the underpinnings remain the same, and I've always found comfort in the way the ache of all the world's catastrophies rests in my bones like a shared evolutionary sorrow; I like how the pain grows my muscles stronger and my skin thicker. I think stitching myself into you has added new layers to these moments and new stories behind my eyelids and a few new marks on my wall of "chances I'm glad I took." I think taking in the pain has given me the voice so sought-after and I think I've grown enough of it through my blood now to build you up how you deserve, and to show you that casting stones is not always a plan for failure; sometimes we find miracles in the middle of wrong calculations.
0
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 12:22 AM UTC
anchor
I always told you keep your secrets like ink, right up under layers of my skin where I can see the black mark they leave. Impermanence never deterred me from reaching for your hand like an anchor to measure my weight against paper-thin realities. Sink with me, lace my muscles and bones with the soft heavy haze of summer, let it rest heavily inside my head. Mark my body where it's out of sight, mark these moments each on the wall, leave them etched in tallies like we don't care how many we win or lose. In such a state as we are, everything fades into the white noise of soft muttered phrases.   I twist my fingers around my anxieties, make them diluted and palatable for the journey ahead; I've been afraid of losing ground or losing you but it's unclear now as to how those fears came about in the first place, and their threads are unraveling as we speak. I think I tend to glorify these things more than I should, more than letting them fade into the background. The subconscious is a lonely place, no man should have to go there alone. Dress this up or down, but the underpinnings remain the same, and I've always found comfort in the way the ache of all the world's catastrophies rests in my bones like a shared evolutionary sorrow; I like how the pain grows my muscles stronger and my skin thicker. I think stitching myself into you has added new layers to these moments and new stories behind my eyelids and a few new marks on my wall of "chances I'm glad I took." I think taking in the pain has given me the voice so sought-after and I think I've grown enough of it through my blood now to build you up how you deserve, and to show you that casting stones is not always a plan for failure; sometimes we find miracles in the middle of wrong calculations.
Continue reading...
54
I listen to the words of tv hosts trying – or maybe just pretending – to analyze topical issues of the day in depth on their panels with certified experts on the issue yet in the end mostly remains a host of possibilities rarely a clear decision more seldom even a provocative conclusion one could at least start arguing about what happened to well-structured arguments that did not lend themselves to fuzzy readings but had a recognizable opinion at their core challenging viewers to discuss some more?
0
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
tv panels etc.
You dream of the sun when your words begin to miss their mark, when you haven't seen the flaws of your actions until it's too late, when the tentative what ifs are swallowed by the looming presence of no. You begin to dream of the sun when you spill yourself into another and the other devours you whole and leaves you empty. You begin to notice changes in the lack of color in your skin or the way your ribs feel a little sharper under your fingers, but change is natural, you tell yourself and try to forget the fuzzy things in the corners of your mind that tell you stop, because what do voices know? You drum your fingers along the edge of who am I, turn the phrase over in your hands and try to forget the answer as you dream of the sun and being swallowed by it, warm.
0
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC
fuzzy thoughts
At times I feel socially awkward hiding away those eyes from contact mumbling and stuttering as though I were stumbling, upon the words as I was discovering. Please don’t think I don’t want to talk when I rush out, Please don’t think I don’t want to talk, when I don’t open your messages. I escape out of nervosity I feel the fuzziness in my head butterflies in my stomach nervosity in my nerves lack of air in my lungs tremble in my muscles and the gritting of my teeth on my nails as it drains every ounce of energy out of me. I hide behind shadows so I don’t encounter any social interaction. No matter how many times I plan and play a conversation in my head I shudder and fret in reality, making myself look like an awkward mess. I want to be friends I want to say hi but the words do not escape for I feel tongue tied. I feel conscience and dreadful for being such an awkward mess choking on words unable to let them escape my tongue. I am thinking more than I am speaking I can have a conversation in my head but somehow, I find it difficult in reality. But then you reach out and make the first move It makes it easier; only to find myself being an embarrassment once again. But you don’t judge you play it cool and remain patient you still show an eager to talk and maybe that was what I needed to be comfortable and me.
0
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 1:47 AM UTC
Social Phobia/Social Anxiety
You are calling and I just keep staring frozen my heart resonates to the vibration of the ringing phone. My eyes are hazzy My mind is fuzzy I don't know what to say For I fear I will make a fool of myself leaving to end the conversation on an awkward note. The call ends I breathe to calm my nervous nerves. I call back only to find myself stutteringg and being overly conscience with every word I say dreading to have called as the call ends.
0
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 6:57 AM UTC
Phone Call
perhaps we were meant to meet at a different time, on a different planet, in a different universe. maybe we were meant to glide past each others warmth and flourish in the rays we put off. it's a silly feeling. being bottled up tight and released with zero gravity to guide its course. fuzzy and twinkling, like two stars in a strong orbit around a common barycenter. it's like we're dancing around the same feelings, the same glow, but never realizing we're spinning to the same force which holds it all together. set ablaze, spinning spirits letting off sparks of stardust we silently wait for our moment to shine. whether that be together or apart... -Julia Aubrey Rhodes-
0
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 11:07 PM UTC
Binary Figures
As nights get darker, My mind too, a bit fuzzy, Always out of lights.
0
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 2:21 AM UTC
Fuzzy Min(10W)
I like it when you hold me When I can look into your eyes For you are beauty, a sense of familiarity, the feeling that you are all I need in my life.
0
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 12:28 PM UTC
I saw your message and words flowed out in less than 2 minutes
Our eyes met Like magnets Drawn in from a distance. The way the beam from a lighthouse Draws the attention of sailors. Your gaze was instantly familiar Like waking up to the smell of coffee Or coming home from a storm. Simultaneously bringing bright flashes Of welcoming warmth and excitement.
0
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 1:53 AM UTC
Soft Eyes
***My eyesight is fuzzy My thoughts are static; Tonight's show is on: Depression and Madness.***
0
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 12:19 AM UTC
Late Night Television
Rest easy Rest peacefully Have a good night's sleep They say Not easy when you're me Eyes wide open but I don't see Everything is fuzzy, everything is blurry And I stay this way Until the break of day No wonder I'm tired
0
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 12:19 AM UTC
Sleep Well
if there is ever a parallel universe, i want to exist in serenity with you, there and forever. complete utopia, devoid of all negativity, my lust for you expands eternally. i would sacrifice my cohesion, my solidity, my utter being, to simply exist within your comfort.
0
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 2:00 AM UTC
yearn
Words of deep love and longing Are lost on me, today. I've no whimsy to feed my prose, No form of coherency in my head. I'll write for the sake of writing. Rustling trees swelled with song birds Are mere echoes of a life outside To me. I feel like I'm suspended in zero gravity - My face tingles, My head is sluggish Like a hangover without the nausea. We've got potholes in our hearts And the construction's lasted for months So we just fill them all with sand and Call it a day. Integrated into a system That's forgotten the welfare Of the human soul. There's a trickle of sunlight And it's getting warmer. Summer's blossoming and I can't stand it. The beautiful solace of winter Melts away with my silence, While summer months boil blood And chaos chokes the air. These words I write are read Aloud in tremulous whispers - The only proof that they're real. Recited every night When I lay my head down And wonder about the difference Between what is evil And what is just a misled notion Of Righteousness. And everything else in between.
0
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
Early Morning Musings
Can we just talk about nothing? Don't know if I'm ready To go yet Don't know how to keep you here around me Can't we just talk about nothing? Silently Speaking Silently Screaming Life without a meaning But with a meaning Meaning nothing Can we just talk about nothing? Don't go yet What does it mean to say nothing I don't know yet But the feeling in my head Makes me wish I wasn't dead But I wanna be dead But I don't Wanna be dead yet I wanna talk about nothing. I wanna feel nothing. I don't want nothing. Nothing wants me. I can't ask for nothing, What does it mean? It can't mean nothing. It has to be something. Anything is everything. Why does everything feel like nothing to me.
0
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 4:05 PM UTC
Wandering Mind
Chris, a boy whose smile Can make your heart melt Like Ice cream on your face
0
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 9:51 PM UTC
Fleeting moments (haiku)
kikki obadoo bird in a kikii obabdoo tree just sitting there shooting the leaves, mocking all the trees all up in the air, no reason to run around town, and no reason to leave. I'm amazed at it's song. It has no burden or work to do. It does not toil or spin and yet is clothed in that finest cloak. happy happy happy, Like a second semester named sylvester the molester there is so much I could do. It's all a little fuzzy and I feel kinda dumb all of a sudden. I just think I know, which is silly. It's a good lesson in humility, but since I am not sufficient and you are please show me what it is in your word that I should know. That we should show ourselves. I love you God. I love you with all I am.
0
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
Kikki Obadoo
My vision was blurred And your voice was only a distant echo. I tried to reply, but my words were slurred So all you heard was a garbled mess. You said that I was "too difficult" As my throat clenched, holding back ***** You turned, claiming it wasn't my fault, But as I stumbled after you, I knew it was. My mind was slow, fuzzy, as I tried to recall All the times you carried me home. All the times I was too far gone to walk steadily. And I realized suddenly that I'd been a burden. That you resented me for those times I needed you. But I also remembered how hurtful you were, How you tormented me, controlled me. I cried myself to sleep all alone that night. I woke up with a headache, still sick about losing you. But I gathered myself and thought for a long while. I may have been a burden, but you were an instigator. You never gave me the love I deserved for loving you. I can let you go now, for I believe the end of us was your fault, your mistake; I was only under the influence of heartbreak.
0
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
Under the Influence